In the Cold Night
by incense and peppermints
Summary: A mother's work is never done. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns.

AN: I hope this piece makes sense. It's a little … well, different.

* * *

All is calm and quiet, but I remain restless.

It's three AM, and I tiptoe through the house, careful not to wake my sleeping boys with the muffled pitter patter of shuffling feet. _Come back to bed, dear, _Darrel would tell me if he saw me. _Come back to bed. You're pacing again, and you know you make me nervous when you do that. _Goodness, I know I pace, but I can't sleep like this.

Something is wrong, something only a mother could sense. Darrel wouldn't understand. It rattles deep within me and consumes my consciousness in a gnawing ache. Something is wrong—horribly, horribly wrong—but I don't know what.

I check on the boys constantly, mingling back and forth between their rooms. They don't wake; their chests rise and fall in a comforting rhythm. Up, down. Up, down. They sleep so soundly, so peacefully, but that doesn't assure me this time. Something. Is. Wrong. I just know it.

Back and forth. Back and forth I pace.

I stop.

My room catches my eye.

I step forward.

The bed, it's empty. The sheets are tangled up in a mess, but the bed and the room are empty. I wonder where Darrel has gone. He was there just a minute ago, wasn't he?

That's when it happens, a scream. A sharp, piercing scream erupts from Ponyboy's bedroom, and I rush to his bedside as fast as I can move. I reach out for him, but he doesn't respond, doesn't move. I reach and reach and try to touch. His back, his arm, his cheek. Anything to comfort him. Anything to stop him from shaking.

_Ponyboy, it's okay_, I say. _It's just a bad dream, baby._

Soda sits beside him and wraps him in a tight embrace. "Hey, Pony, what happened?" he asks.

Pony is quiet, but he doesn't need to say a word. I feel the terror and panic in his eyes, and it eats through me. _Soda, go back to bed. I can handle this. You have school in the morning._

I shake my head when he doesn't listen, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice Darry standing in the doorway. _Darry, you have to work tomorrow! Both of you, back to bed this instant!_

No one moves. They don't even turn to acknowledge me, their own mother.

"Nightmare?" Soda asks.

Pony nods.

"Think you can tell me about it?"

_No, no. I'll take care of this, honey. Go to bed, Soda._ _You need your sleep. You too, Darry. Both of you, go to bed. Go back to sleep! This is the last time I'm gonna say it!_

They don't hear me. I scream and scream and scream. I scream myself hoarse, but they don't hear me.

"It was the accident," Pony mumbles teary-eyed.

I lurch forward. _There was no accident. __It's just a dream._

Darry walks through me without a single word, as though he were a flash of energy, and the room feels different—colder. The air is so icy against my skin.

_It's time to go, Frances, _Darrel calls to me.

_No. No, it's not time. _

He appears before me and holds out his hand. _It's time to go._

I shake my head.

I can't go. I won't go. _But my boys. _Our_ boys._

He only repeats himself like a broken record. _It's time to go, honey. It's time to go._

No, it's _not_ time to go. Something's wrong, and I have to fix it.

I rush to Ponyboy again, and Darrel tries to stop me. _He can't see you_, he pleads with me. _Please stop doing this. Please. _

I reach out and try to stroke Pony's hair. He pulls away from Soda and turns to me, staring with wide, puzzled eyes. _It's me, honey. It's me. _

"Pony, what're you looking at?" Soda asks him.

"Nothing … Just … for a second, I thought I saw Mom."

He wipes at his eyes, and Soda pulls him back into an embrace. Darry puts a hand on his back too, and I watch on, as long as I can, as long as time lets me. They're such good boys. All of them, good boys...

_It's time to go, _Darrel says behind me.

He hooks his hand in mine. _Are you ready?_

I'll never be ready.

* * *

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Happy 4th to all the American readers out there, and happy Thursday to the rest of you! ;)


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